


You're A Cop

by Traw



Category: The Streets of San Francisco
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 15:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traw/pseuds/Traw
Summary: Mike sighed, he wasn't sure just how long Steve had been standing here re-reading the letter he held in his hand, but he found himself wondering just how much guilt about how Steve did his job had Connie managed to cram into that one page. Was it enough to put that damn monkey wrench in Steve's head or more than enough to get him killed? An alternate ending to 'The Victims'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate ending to 'The Victims' because I really thought that Connie had walked away and was a little surprised that after the way she treated Steve, there she was waiting for him at the end.

"She's gone." Steve murmured, staring at the handwritten letter that he held in his hand as he heard the soft familiar footsteps behind him, uncertain of just how Mike had found him but unsurprised Mike had.

"I know." Mike answered softly, stopping a few steps behind the young man standing at the small ornate bar, holding what he assumed was Connie's version of a 'Dear John' letter in his hand. Only it wasn't a 'Dear John' letter it was a 'Dear Steve' letter and he doubted Connie would have let Steve down gently. Mike sighed, he wasn't sure just how long Steve had been standing here reading and re-reading the letter he held in his hand, but he found himself wondering just how much guilt about how Steve did his job had Connie managed to cram into that one page. Was it enough to put that damn monkey wrench in Steve's head or more than enough to get him killed?

"Want a drink?" Steve asked quietly as he folded the letter up but did not turn around.

"Sounds good." Mike forced a small smile, "Got a beer?"

Steve nodded as he shoved the letter into his pocket and opened the fridge, grabbing out a bottle of beer before picking up a bottle of bourbon that Mike now noticed had been sitting, already open, on the bar.

Mike accepted the cold bottle of beer that Steve had opened and handed him before he turned and followed his slightly unsteady partner across to the two chairs that overlooked the bay. Sitting down next to the chair where Steve had unceremoniously sat down, Mike took a small sip of his beer as he waited for Steve to speak.

"You know I really thought that she would be here." Steve sighed as he lifted the bottle of bourbon to his lips and took a large gulp, grimacing as the fiery liquid burned the back of his throat. "I wanted to make her understand."

Mike nodded, taking another small sip of his beer, resisting the urge to look at his upset young friend, instead he forced himself to look out over the bay at the setting sun as he waited patiently for Steve to continue.

"But she was already gone when I got here. I found a letter that she left me that said that there could never be anything between us, that she could never love anyone like me." Taking another swig from the bottle, Steve sighed as he lowered the bottle back down and stared out at the mutely colored pink, gold and purple clouds and the orange disc of the setting sun as it began to slowly dip below the horizon, his heartbroken words slurring together as the strong alcohol took effect, "She couldn't believe that I could be so cold and so detached when I am dealing with the violent death of someone's mother or father or worse still, someone's child. But you know what, she's right, Mike, this job does makes us cold, it makes us lose some of our humanity. I mean, most people cry when they see the victims, like Connie did today, but we… I…now just see the victims as evidence to use to help us in our hunt for the killer."

"She's not right, Steve," Mike corrected his young friend firmly, his blood boiling at the monkey wrench Connie had planted firmly in Steve's mind, "she's wrong and she wasn't even willing to try and understand. And I am going to tell you just what I told her this afternoon."

Lifting the bourbon bottle up to his lips, Steve paused and lowered it back down as he turned and stared at Mike. "You spoke with Connie this afternoon?"

"Yes, I spoke to Connie this afternoon, she came to the office she wanted to talk to you but you were busy and I was not going to allow her to get into your head again. So she asked me to give you these." Mike reached into his pocket and withdrew Steve's apartment keys, handing them across to Steve as he continued firmly, "And I am going to tell you just what I told her. You're a cop, Steve, not just a cop but a homicide inspector and you are a professional. You can't afford to have tears in your eyes every time you see a victim, nor should she expect you to carry the guilt of the world on your shoulders while you do your job! Because if you do, Buddy boy, it's going to get you or someone else killed."

"If you're talking about what almost happened this afternoon, I'm sorry Mike, I know I should have been paying better…"

"No, I'm not talking about that near miss we had," Mike quickly cut him off, trying to explain what he meant, "but I am talking about how you allowed Connie to get inside your head. You're a cop, and a damn good one. That's the reason why I asked Rudy for you to be my partner. I wanted to see if one day you could be as good as me." Mike grinned as he reached across and gently squeezed Steve's shoulder, before he grew more serious, "I know you think that Connie was the one, but when you find the right girl, she will want you just as you are, she won't want to change a single thing about you."

"Like Helen?" Steve asked softly.

Mike gave a small smile and nodded, "Yeah, Buddy boy, like Helen, she did not always understand or, I am sure, agreed with the way I sometimes did things but she always supported everything I did. She never once tried to change me and I never tried to change anything about her. And one day, Steve. I know you will find your own Helen. I am just sorry Connie wasn't the one."

Looking back out over the dark water, Steve nodded as he murmured, "Thanks."

"Any time, Buddy boy, anytime." Mike smiled as he rose to his feet, "You ready to go home, yet? I understand that your Lieutenant wants you back in his office bright and early in the morning."

"Aw, come on Mike, it's my weekend off and I paid to have this house for the weekend." Steve grumbled as he unsteadily rose to his feet and walked across to place the half-filled bottle of bourbon on the bar.

"You have reports to do, Inspector, and I expect them on my desk tomorrow." Mike smiled as he walked across and took Steve's arm, wrapping it around his shoulder as he guided his partner down the ramp and steered him around the front of the house to where he had parked his car.

"So how did you know I was here anyway?" Steve asked, stumbling a little in the sand.

"I'm a cop remember, Steve," Mike grinned, "and a good one."

"Not just a good cop, a great one," Steve smiled, "and the man I am honored to call my best friend."


	2. Chapter 2

Pulling up in front of Steve's apartment, Mike glanced at his friend and shook his head. Steve's head rested against the window as he snored softly. The combination of a long and highly emotional day, topped off with straight bourbon, had wiped the younger man out. Lifting his hand to gently wake his partner, Mike hesitated as he noticed the solitary figure sitting on the stairs. Connie!

Mike stared at the young woman who had decided not only to judge Steve for the way he did his job, but also broke his heart with a Dear John letter that accused him of being cold and heartless, only seeing the victims Steve had to deal with every day as nothing more than pieces of evidence. She had not only publicly accused Steve of being more interested in the hunt for the killer than the victims or the real reason why the killers did what they did. The accusations had left Steve rattled and distracted the rest of the day but then to ram the guilt in deeper she had turned up at the bullpen, determined to continue the argument. He had managed to run interference but sadly Connie had managed to have the last word with the 'Dear Steve' letter she had left at the holiday house next to the bay.

Even though Mike did not know precisely what the letter contained, he did know whatever was in that letter it had sent Steve into a downward spiral, one he had hoped he had managed to put the brakes on. He sighed, but here she was again! Waiting to wriggle her way back into Steve's heart, ready to plant that damn monkey wrench in his head again with her naive and sanctimonious views on the world of crime, where the investigating officers should weep over each victim's body and where criminals should be pitied and treated with kid gloves.

He watched her stand and slowly begin to descend the stairs when she recognized his car and he glanced at Steve again, who still was softly snoring beside him. He forced himself to resist the temptation to start the car and drive Steve back to his home without waking him and telling him that Connie was waiting for him.

Reluctantly he lifted his hand and gently shook Steve's shoulder until the younger man groaned and opened his eyes. "Wakey, wakey Steve, you're home and you have a visitor." He forced a small smile that he did not really feel as Steve lifted his head and glanced around in confusion.

"A visitor? Who?" Steve slurred as he squinted through the windshield at the dark figure standing on the stairs.

"Connie." Mike answered softly.

"Connie?" Steve blinked in confusion as he reached for the door handled, fumbling with it as he tried to open the door, "She's here?"

"Yeah buddy boy, she's here." Mike answered softly as he glanced back at the young woman who was watching them, uncertainly, on the stairs before he turned and watched as Steve managed to open the car door and climb out the car.

Mike forced himself to remain silent as Connie hurried down the stairs and ran across to hug Steve, crying about how sorry she was for all she had said and done and begging for Steve's forgiveness as Steve wrapped his arms, drunkenly, around her and whispered into her ear. She smiled and wiped away the tears as she turned and led him back towards the stairs.

Steve turned and looked back at Mike over his shoulder, grinning drunkenly, as he waved goodnight and allowed Connie to guide him up the stairs as he reached into his pocket and withdrew his apartment door keys.

Starting the car's engine, Mike glanced up as he watched Connie guide Steve into his apartment and the door closed behind them before he sighed heavily as he pulled away.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Connie bit her bottom lip and quickly wiped away her tears with one hand as she closed the door behind them before she turned and tried to maneuver the inebriated man across to the sofa. Turning him around, she tried to help break his fall onto the sofa as he attempted to sit down. She giggled as she allowed him to reach up and pull her down onto his lap. "I'm sorry, Steve," she whispered softly in his ear, as a tear trickled down her cheek as she snuggled up against him, "I'm so sorry for the way I acted today and what I said. I should never have judged you… please, can you forgive me?"

"Shhh… It's okay," Steve slurred as he began to lightly kiss her face and neck. "I …I thought that I had lost you… I'm just glad that you decided to give me… us… a second chance."

"You could never lose me, Steve." Connie whispered as her lips lightly brushed against his, "Not now, not ever."

"I never want to." Steve murmured as Connie nuzzled his neck, "I love you, crazy woman."

"Why don't we go to bed?" Connie suggested softly as she rose to her feet and grabbed Steve's hands, gently tugging him to his feet.

Steve grinned and nodded drunkenly, as Connie helped to guide him into the bedroom.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Gliding the car to a stop outside Steve's apartment building, Mike shook his head as he looked up at the closed door of Steve's apartment. Reaching across to grab his hat, his hand stopped in mid-motion as he noticed the roughly folded piece of paper lying on the seat beside him. He hesitated a moment, immediately recognizing the folded 'Dear John' letter that Connie had left Steve that had sent the younger man in such a tailspin. Picking up the folded paper, Mike fingered it for a moment, resisting the urge to read its contents and discover just how big a monkey wrench Connie had planted in Steve's head.

He turned as he heard one of the apartment doors open and he watched Steve emerge, shrugging into his coat and giving Mike a quick acknowledgment wave before Connie appeared behind him, dressed in one of Steve's shirts which barely covered her. Mike felt his heart sink as he watched Connie wrap her arms around Steve, kissing him on the lips and whispering something into Steve's ear as Steve disentangled himself and smiled before lightly kissing her again.

Shoving the letter, he still held in his hand, into his coat pocket, Mike watched Steve jog down the stairs and quickly cross to the passenger side of the car, giving a quick, last wave to Connie before he opened the car door and slid in beside his partner. "Good night?" Mike asked casually as Steve closed the door.

"Umm, yeah." Steve smiled as he looked out of the window at the woman watching them from his apartment door.

"Did you and Connie talk about the letter?" Mike inquired as casually as he could as he glanced up at Steve's apartment and watched as Connie re-entered the apartment and closed the door behind her before he started the engine and drove away.

"Ahh, we didn't actually do much talking," Steve admitted as he blushed deeply.

Mike nodded silently and returned his attention back to the road as the radio suddenly crackled to life.

_"Inspector's 8-1."_

Wincing as the dispatcher's loud call increased the pounding in his head, Steve was grateful for the momentary distraction as he snagged the mic and pressed the button, "Inspectors 8-1."

" _Inspectors 8-1, possible homicide, Eramat's Grocery._ _458 Larkin Street_. _Will you respond?_ "

Glanced across at Mike who nodded silently, Steve pressed the mic's button as he responded, "Inspectors 8-1 to headquarters. Responding to the possible homicide, Erakat's Grocery, Larkin Street, Code 3." Placing the mic back onto the radio, he reached for the light and placed it onto the car's roof top before grabbing the dash to stop himself from sliding across the seat into Mike as Mike hit the siren and did a quick U-turn. Looking across at his partner, Steve asked quietly, "Eramat's Grocery, isn't that Sammy's shop?"

Mike nodded grimly as his hands tightened around the steering wheel. He had known Sammy Eramat since he was a new cop walking the beat. The shop keeper was the same age as himself and had the reputation of being a kind and generous man who was always willing to help struggling families by giving free food items when he knew they were doing it extra tough, always using the excuse that he had accidentally overstocked and needed to get rid of some of the extra items before they went out of date. "Yeah." Mike murmured as he silently prayed that the homicide victim was not his friend.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Closing the door behind her, Connie wandered across to the small kitchenette and poured herself another cup of coffee. Picking up the cup of steaming black liquid, she took a small sip as she wandered across to the TV and switched it on before sitting down on the sofa. Curling her legs beneath her, she took another small sip of her coffee as she watched the early morning program, yawning as the presenter raved about the awesome washing power of the new washing powder that she was holding in her hand, guaranteed to remove the most stubborn stain with the minimum of fuss.

Lifting the cup up to her lips to take another sip of the strong brew Connie watched as a news flash interrupted the program and the screen switched to the reporter at the scene of a murder at a small grocery shop, somewhere on Larkin Street. In the background, she saw a familiar LTD unmarked police car stop before she watched Steve and Mike exit the car and hurry into the grocery shop as the reporter excitedly reported there were unconfirmed reports that an eyewitness had seen three young black men enter the shop minutes before shots were heard.

Lowering the cup back down to her lap, Connie listened intently as the news reporter went on to speculate that the latest killing could be connected to the spate of murders and attempted murders that had plagued the city during the last five weeks.

A small smile tugged on Connie's lips as she watched the camera pan in as Steve emerged from the building to speak to the officers outside. She quickly placed the half-finished cup of coffee onto the coffee table and jumped up, heading towards the bedroom to get dressed. If she worked this right, this could be her big shot to be finally seen by her editor as a real reporter.


	3. Chapter 3

Stepping into the small mom and pop grocery shop, Mike looked around. The shop had been ransacked, grocery items were scattered across the floor, shelves had been knocked over and display signs had been torn way from the wall and tossed aside.

"Victim is the shop owner, Sammy Eramat," the police sergeant told Mike and Steve as he hurried across to meet them at the door before he led them through the store to the small restroom where a blood-stained sheet covered a body that was lying on the floor. "A witness saw three black youths enter the shop before he heard the gun shots a few minutes later and called it in."

"Was he able to give you a description?"

The officer shrugged, "Just three black male youths, young, all about six feet, he guessed they were all about twenty, maybe a little older, dressed in torn jeans and dark jackets. He did say he thought he heard someone yelling racial slurs at the victim just before and just after he heard the gunshots. He's gone back to the station to give a statement and to work with a police artist but I don't like our chances of getting anything to really work with." He said quietly as Steve kneeled beside the body and carefully lifted the sheet. Looking down at Steve, he added. "The vic took two rounds, one to the back of the head and one to the back…"

"His hands are tied behind his back," Steve observed, lifting the sheet a little higher and looked beneath as he studied the body before dropping the sheet back down. "Probably made to kneel and beg for his life before they executed him." Looking back up at the officer as he rose to his feet, he asked," Any idea how much money they got?"

"None that we know of, the money is still in the register and his wallet hasn't been touched." The sergeant answered as Mike and Steve glanced around the small room before turning back towards the door.

"Has anyone informed his wife yet?" Mike asked as he stepped back out of the restroom and looked around the shop, pushing away the emotions that bubbled beneath the surface of seeing a friend's murdered body, there would be time to deal with his emotions later, right now he was a cop investigating a murder, he chastised himself firmly.

"Not yet."

"Okay, Tom, Steve and I will go and inform Sammy's wife. I want the lab boys to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb and get an APB using the description we have so far of the three suspects."

"Will do. Mike." The officer agreed before he hurried away to carry out Mike's orders.

"I can do the Next of Kin notification by myself, Mike." Steve said softly as they walked out of the shop and headed towards the car. "Why don't you head back to the station."

"Thanks, Buddy Boy, but this is something I have to do for Sammy, myself."

Steve nodded silently.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Pushing through the small crowd who had gathered to watch the activity within the taped off crime scene, Connie reached the crime tape and ducked beneath it.

"Excuse me, Miss, but you have to stay on the other side of the tape," the young SFPD officer told her, grabbing her arm to prevent her from moving any further into crime scene.

"It's okay officer, I'm a reporter." Connie smiled sweetly as she shrugged her arm free of his light grip and continued to walk towards the grocery shop door.

"I don't care if you are the head editor of The New York Times, you still have to stay behind the lines." The officer told her firmly as he grabbed her arm again.

"Hey, let me go!" Connie demanded as she attempted to pull her arm free again of the officer's hold as he lifted the tape and guided her beneath it to stand on the other side.

Turning back towards the crime scene, Connie glared at the officer. Her editor had been delighted when he had heard through the grapevine, some time yesterday. that she was dating a Homicide inspector. He had called her and told her that if she could get 'exclusive inside' scoop of a Homicide police inspector solving of a homicide, he would move her to the front pages as a news reporter.

She bit her lip as she stared across at the open door of the store. This was her big chance to show not only Steve, but all the world, just how the job made police officers to lose all their humanity. This was her opportunity to highlight how the victim just becomes another of evidence in the cop's eyes to be studied and pulled apart, every piece of their lives shifted through to find something they did or didn't do, said or didn't say or who they upset enough to get them killed. It was also her opportunity to show the world how the suspect become nothing more than prey, to be hunted down and captured like a wild animal with little thought about the suspect's often troubled past and no care into the violent world of prison life into which the suspect would be condemned with no hope of rehabilitation.

But first, she needed to get inside the scene and somehow talk Steve, and Mike, into allowing her to ride along with them. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she thought of Steve's partner. Mike's harsh rebuke about her planting a monkey wrench in Steve's head, and possibly getting Steve or someone else killed because she dared to point out just to Steve just how much of his humanity he lost when he was out on the job, still stung.

Shrugging the hurt off, she smiled as she mentally slapped her forehead, of course, why did she think the "I'm a reporter' line would work when she all she had to do was tell the officer she was with Steve. Looking back at the officer, she smiled her sweetest smile, flicking her hair back over her shoulder as she began politely, "Excuse me Officer, but I think we got off on the wrong foot, while I am a reporter, I am also here with Inspector Keller, he personally invited me to tag along to observe while he works a case."

"I'm sorry Miss, but unless Inspector Keller tells me that himself, my orders are no one, and that includes reporters, are allowed to cross over the line." the officer told her firmly.

Looking over the officer's shoulder Connie grinned as she saw Steve and Mike emerge from the shop and head towards their car, "Looks like he just might!" Her grin widened as she looked back at the officer and nodded towards the two Homicide officers before she called out "Steve! Steve!"

Hearing someone call his name, Steve turned towards the police tape, surprised to see Connie standing there. Looking back at Mike, he promised, "I'll only be a sec."

Mike nodded silently as he watched his young partner jog across to where Connie was waiting.

"it's okay Matt, she's with me." Steve smiled at the officer guarding the scene.

"Okay Steve, if you say so." Matt frowned, lifting the police tape just high enough to allow Connie to duck under it as she looked up at him and gave him a small triumphant grin before lowering it down again.

"Connie, what are you doing here?" Steve frowned as he grabbed Connie's arm and led her out of ear shot of the other officers.

"I saw you on the morning news." Connie told him as she glanced towards the doorway of the small shop, trying to see the activity that was going on within before she turned and looked back at Steve. "The reporter said that three young black men were seen entering the shop shortly before the killing. Do you really think this is connected to the other murders, Steve?"

"We don't know yet, we still haven't ruled out that this was a robbery that turned deadly." Steve answered quietly as he over watched the coroner wheel the stretcher containing the body out to the coroner's van. Returning his attention back to Connie, he asked again, "You still haven't answered my question, what are you doing here?"

"Mike wanted to show me yesterday just what you have to deal with every day and I have been thinking, maybe he was right." Connie frowned as she looked around at all the activity around her before she looked back at Steve as she added softly, "Maybe I should see what you have to deal with every day so I can understand."

"Connie, now's not the time." Steve said softly, glancing over his shoulder towards Mike who was standing at the car watching them. "We're just about to go and break the news to the victim's wife that her husband has been murdered."

"Maybe I can come along, help…"

"Connie…" Steve sighed, running his hand over his hair and rubbing the back of his neck as the headache from the hangover he had woken up with increased to a throbbing thump, leaving him feeling nauseous.

"Okay, okay, bad idea," Connie reluctantly agreed as she brushed an errant strand of hair that the wind had blown into her face as she heard Mike call out impatiently, 'Steve!'.

"Look Connie, I have to go…" Steve sighed as he glanced across at Mike before returning his attention back to Connie.

"I know, maybe I can see you back at the station later…" She saw Steve hesitate before she grabbed his arm and rushed on, "Please Steve, if we're going to make this work, Mike was right, I should see what you to deal with at work."

"Steve!"

Hearing Mike call him again, Steve nodded distractedly as he disentangled his arm from hers, "We'll talk about it later, but I really have to go…"

"I know. Go! I will see you later." Connie smiled, giving him a light push as he turned and hurried back to where Mike was waiting in the car. Watching Steve climb into the car, Connie waved as the car pulled away from the curb before she gave a quick sly glance back at the officer who was guarding the perimeter. Satisfied that he was no longer interested in her, she grinned as she turned and headed across to the grocery shop.


	4. Chapter 4

"Make sure you dust the bathroom door and doorhandle for prints." The SFPD sergeant ordered the lab technician before he turned and walked back out to the main shop area. He stopped in surprise as a young woman entered the shop and crossed to the middle of the room before she lifted the camera she held up to her eye and quickly began to taking photos. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" he yelled as he hurried across the room and grabbed her arm. "This is an active crime scene, what the Hell do you think you are doing in here? How did you manage to get past the police line?"

"I'm a reporter and I have permission from Inspector Keller to take a couple of photos!" Connie snapped as she yanked her arm free of his grip before adding, "Now, if you don't mind, I have a job to do."

"I don't care if Keller gave you permission or not to take photos," Tom growled as he grabbed Connie's arm again and started to guide her, unceremoniously, back towards the door. "because you haven't got my permission to traipse all over and contaminate my crime scene and as long as I am the senior officer on the scene, you will go back and stay behind the tape where you belong." Firmly leading Connie back outside, Tom looked across at the young officer who was guarding the police tape and yelled, "Williamson!"

Turning, the young officer's face grew pale as he saw the reporter, whom Steve Keller had assured him just a few minutes earlier that she was with him, and his very angry sergeant firmly gripping the young woman's arm. Swallowing hard, he hurried across to where his sergeant was waiting as he stole a quick glance at the very annoyed and angry glare the reporter was giving him before returning his attention back to his furious sergeant, "Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to escort this young lady back behind the tape where she belongs, and I want you to make sure she stays there!" Tom growled as the young officer took a hold of Connie's arm, "And if she tries to cross the line again, I want you to charge her with hindering with a police investigation."

"You can't do that!" Connie turned to argue with the police sergeant as she yanked her arm free from his hold.

"Watch me!" Tom warned her before he turned and walked back into the shop, confident that his officer would escort the reporter back behind the police tape where she belonged as he muttered under his breath about having a few good choice words with Keller for allowing trying to score points with his latest love interest by allowing her access to a sensitive crime scene or maybe he might just let Stone rip shreds off the young inspector for the little stunt he had just tried to pull.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Casting a quick glance at Steve, who seemed a million miles away after speaking with Connie at the scene, Mike sighed softly as he returned his attention back to the road as he wondered just what Connie had said to Steve this time to get him so distracted. "Want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

Steve jumped, startled by Mike's soft voice and turned to look at him, "Sorry Mike, what did you say?"

"Want to talk about what happened with Connie back there, Buddy boy?" Mike asked again, casting another quick look at his partner who ran his hand over his hair and momentarily rested it on the back of his head as he stared out of the windshield at the car ahead.

"She saw us arrive at the scene on a news report on TV." Steve began slowly, "And she got thinking about what you tried to show her and talked to her about what we deal with every day…"

"And?" Mike pushed gently when Steve's voice trailed off and he went silent.

"She thinks you were right, that maybe she does need to see what we have to deal with every day so she can understand why I act like I do when I am working a case." Turning to face Mike, Steve took a deep breath as he added, "She thinks it's important if we are going to work."

"And what do you think?"

Steve sighed and shrugged his shoulders as he reluctantly admitted, "I don't know, Mike, after her reaction yesterday when she saw how I switched my emotions off…" Turning to look back out the window, he admitted softly, "I don't want to lose her again."

Forcing himself not to react, Mike returned his attention back to the road as he asked, "So what did you tell her?"

"I told her we would talk about it later." Steve answered as he continued to stare out the window.

Mike could only nod as his hand touched the pocket in his jacket the held the 'Dear Steve' letter Connie had left Steve the night before and he wondered just Connie was really up to and why she suddenly had such a big change of heart concerning Steve's job as a cop.


	5. Chapter 5

Lifting the photo that she had just developed from the washing liquid, she smiled as she carefully hung it up to dry next to the other photos of the crime scene. Each photo highlighted the grocery items that were scattered across the floor, the broken shelves and the display signs had been torn way from the wall as well as the tense, worried looks on the officers' faces as they carefully searched the shop for any evidence they could find, all in glossy color to share with the world. Studying each photograph carefully, she stopped and stared, not quite able to believe what she had managed to capture. Her smile faded as her finger lightly traced the very distinctive shape of a body beneath a blood-stained sheet on the floor in the doorway of the restroom at the back of the store. This was the photo she had been hoping for, the photo that would change this crime from being just another murder in the eyes of her readers, and more importantly in Steve's, but the murder of a real human being, especially if she could get her hands on a much-treasured family photo of the victim and his family to go along side it.

She turned back to the table where she had placed the negatives, and began to search for the negative containing the body. Finding the negative she was looking for, she bit her bottom lip and switched off the light, plunging the room back into complete darkness before she turned on the infra-red light. Frowning in concentration as she began to carefully to enlarge the image of the sheet covered body.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Staring out the window as Mike parked the car in their spot in the SFPD parking lot after they returned from breaking the news to the middle-aged woman that her husband had been the victim of a vicious and cruel homicide, Steve sighed. Breaking the news that a loved one had just been murdered was a part of the job that he hated and a part of the job that he knew he would never get used to.

He hoped that one day that he could break the news as compassionately and gently as he had just witnessed Mike break the news to the victim's wife of his murder before gently questioning her about her husband's business, any enemies he may have made and if she knew of any reason why anyone would have wanted to hurt him. The grieving widow had not been able to help them with the investigation, as far as she knew, Sammy had been loved by everyone and no one had a reason to kill him.

Acutely aware of the glances Mike had thrown at him on the silent ride back and not yet quite willing to get into another discussion about Connie, he asked, "Do you think this murder could be linked to the Zebra Killers?"

Mike nodded, aware the tag 'The Zebra Killers' was the name unofficially given to the group of young black men, who were suspected or had been linked to the murders of several white and Asian victims by witnesses and survivors of the horrendous attacks, by the younger Homicide inspectors, including his partner. Steve had explained to him the unofficial tag for the killers had been thought of because of the motive of the crime appeared to be blacks against whites, just like the stripes of a zebra. "Three young black men seen entering the shop shortly before the shots were fired. Witnesses heard them yelling racial slurs at Sammy shortly before the shots fired." Mike sighed as they both got out of the car and began to walk towards the doors leading into the station, "These killers are beginning to get confident and more brazen. And we need to find them and find them fast, Buddy boy, before they find their next victim."

Steve nodded as they entered the station and headed across to the stairs.

"Mike!"

Glancing towards the police sergeant who had called out to his partner and who was now hurrying across the lobby towards Mike, Steve said, "I might go to the lab and see if the reports ready yet."

Mike nodded distractedly as Steve changed directions and headed down the hallway towards the forensic lab.

The scowl on the sergeant's face warned Mike that the other man was extremely upset about something as the officer reached him and grabbed his arm lightly, nodding towards one of the empty offices as he softly but angrily demanded, "We need to talk."

Nodding, Mike followed Tom into the office, closing the door behind them before he turned, frowning, "What's wrong, Tom?"

"What's wrong?" Tom growled as his anger about what had occurred at the grocery store just an hour before bubbled over, "I will tell you what's wrong Mike, what's wrong is your partner trying to impress his reporter girlfriend at a crime scene! Keller's damn lucky that I have decided to talk to you rather than the chief about his behavior!"

Mike's frown deepened with confusion, "I don't understand Tom, what did Steve do …"

"He decided that it was okay to impress his reporter girlfriend at the crime scene today, by giving her permission to enter the store and start taking photos of the crime scene of a murder before we even had time to process the scene or even remove the body instead of impressing her like the rest of us would do by taking her out for dinner and giving her roses!" Tom's voice rose with his anger as he glared at Mike and added, "He's just damn lucky that I caught her before she managed to contaminate the scene or take any photos. "

"And you sure that Steve…"

"Of course I am, Mike," Tom hotly interrupted, "My man guarding the scene told me Keller was the one who allowed his girlfriend to cross the line and after I caught her inside the store, she told me that Keller had given her permission to enter the crime scene and take a couple of photos."

"Leave it with me, Tom. I'll talk to him." Mike reassure the furious SFPD officer.

"You better Mike, because I am warning you, if he ever tries to pull a stunt like this again, I will go to the chief next time!" Tom growled before he brushed past Mike and yanked the door open before he stormed angrily out of the office, leaving Mike staring after him.


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

Charlie looked up from the damaged bullet he was examining under the microscope as Steve entered the lab. "If you have come for my preliminary report on the Eramat's murder, I haven't finished it yet." He told the young Homicide inspector as he straightened up and rubbed the kinks out of the back of his neck before he jotted some notes into the open file laying on the bench beside the microscope.

"Is there anything you can tell me, Charlie?" Steve asked as he approached the bench and glanced at the still sealed bags of evidence that were carefully laid out along the bench, waiting to be processed.

"The coroner sent over the bullet he retrieved from your victim and I can tell you that your victim was killed by a .38." Charlie began.

"Probably a Saturday night special," Steve murmured, "hard to trace, easy to buy on any street corner."

Charlie nodded as he pushed the microscope across to Steve "Unfortunately, I can only identify what caliber the bullet was, the bullet itself is too damaged to be able to link it to any gun." He told Steve grimly as Steve looked through the microscope at the heavy damaged lump of metal that once was a .38 caliber bullet. He waited until Steve looked back up at him before he reached across and picked up the plastic evidence bag containing the rope, handing it to Steve to examine as he continued. "The rope the killers used to bind his hands is made of nylon and can be brought from any hardware shop across the city."

Steve sighed as he accepted the bag and stared at its contents as he turned it over in his hand.

"But I can link it to at least two of the other murders."

Snapping his head up to look at the forensic scientist, Steve asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Charlie answered as he reached across and took the bag containing the rope back. Grabbing a pair of latex gloves, he slipped them on before he opened the bag and removed the rope, laying it out on the bench before he pointed to one of the frayed ends. "This end was cut by a knife but the cut was not a neat one, whoever cut the rope sawed it rather than cut it, leaving uneven strands of nylon at the end, strands that join perfectly with the uneven strands at the end of the rope that was used to bind one of the other victims."

"And the other murder?"

Turning around, Charlie grabbed a second evidence bag containing the rope that Steve instantly recognized as the rope that had bound the hands of the young husband who had been forced to watch as his wife was raped and beaten, before he was bludgeoned to death, by two young black men who had racially abused their two victims during the assaults and the murder. The rope was almost identical to the one that had bound Sammy Eramat's wrists except for the blue dye that stained parts of the rope. First pointing at the blue stain Steve was looking at that was linked to the murder and attempted murder of the couple, Charlie then pointed to several small spots of blue that Steve had not noticed on the strands of the rope that had been removed from Sammy's body as he continued, "I found traces of the same blue dye on strands of the rope of your latest victim and I suspect that when you find the suspects and the rest of the coil of rope they are using, we will be able to match up that rope with the rope used in both crimes because of the blue dye that has been spilled on it."

"Anything else?" Steve asked as he glanced at the other sealed evidence bags.

"Not yet, but we're just getting started," Charlie answered as he carefully returned the rope back into the evidence bag and resealed it before looking back at Steve's retreating back as the young inspector headed towards the door as he added, "but I will let you know as soon as we have anything else."

Thanks, Charlie." Steve smiled as he turned back and looked at the forensic scientist over his shoulder before he disappeared out of the door.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Looking up from the file he was reading, Mike removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair as his partner entered his office.

"Charlie said that Sammy was shot with a .38 caliber bullet, probably from a Saturday night special, but the bullet is too damaged to be able to match it to any specific gun." Steve sighed in frustration as he entered before adding, "But we did get lucky with the rope used to bound Sammy's hands. Charlie says it's from the same coil of rope that was used in the Hunting's case and if we find the rope…"

"Close the door, Steve, we need to talk." Mike ordered him softly, interrupting the younger man's report about what the lab had discovered so far..

Steve frowned as he turned and closed the door before he turned back to Mike, "Is there something wrong, Mike?"

"Connie," Mike answered succinctly, watching Steve's face closely.

Steve's frown deepened as he looked at Mike, "Listen Mike, if this is about what's going on between Connie and…"

"No, it's not, at least I hope it's not," Mike answered softly, "it's about Connie deciding that she could enter a crime scene that was still being processed this morning …"

"She only crossed the line to speak to me, Mike and I told you what she said." Steve answered defensively.

"She did more than that, Buddy boy, Tom Lowe just told me that she entered the shop after we left the scene and was about to take photos of the crime scene when he caught her. She told him that you had given her permission to enter the scene."

"I would never…"

"I know you would never give permission to a reporter to enter an unprocessed crime scene to take photos."

Steve shook his head as he ran his hand over his head and left it resting on the back of his neck as he stared at Mike, uncertain why Connie would ever do or say something like that. "She wanted to come with us at the scene so she could see just what I deal with on the job, maybe she thought after we left that she could have a quick look at the scene so she could maybe understand," Steve murmured softly, almost as if he was talking to himself before he looked back at Mike and said quietly, "I'm sorry Mike, I thought Connie left after we did."

"We're just lucky that Tom caught her before she compromised the case by taking photos or contaminating the evidence." Mike told him.

Steve nodded and sighed, "I'll talk to her, Mike."

Mike nodded, as he resisted the urge to voice his own possible motives for Connie's behavior as Steve turned and hurried out of his office. Shaking his head as he watched Steve hurry across to his desk in the bullpen and reach for the phone, Mike let out his own sigh as he found himself wondering about Connie and her sudden change in heart concerning Steve.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

Pausing outside the apartment door, Connie quickly glanced down at the small slip of paper she held in her hand, making sure she had the right apartment before she tucked the piece of paper back into her pocket and lightly knocked on the door. It had taken several phone calls and a couple of tiny little white lies to find out the victim and his wife lived. She heard footsteps approach the door before it slowly opened and she found herself looking into the tear stained face of the newly grieving widow whom she planned to use as the face of those who are left behind to pick up the torn shreds of their lives after a murder and who are forgotten not only by the police but by society itself, in her story. She resisted a small smile as she made a silent mental note to herself she needed to remember that line she had just thought up about the ones left behind when she wrote the article as she looked at the distraught woman standing in front of her and asked softly, "Mrs. Eramat?"

The woman nodded silently as she wiped away a tear that trickled down her face.

"My name is Connie and I am assisting the SFPD with their inquiries into the murder of your husband," Connie began before adding quietly, "I just want to say how very sorry I am for your loss."

"Thank you."

"I know you might not feel like talking at the moment, but I was just wondering if I could come in and talk to you about your husband, what kind of man he was, what kind of husband…"

"I…I don't understand?" Mrs. Eramat frowned in confusion as she stared at the young woman standing at the door, "I already spoke to the lieutenant and his partner when they…," she swallowed hard as a new flood of tears ran down her face as she struggled to continue, "when they came to …"

"I know," Connie nodded as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, offering it to the upset woman before she continued gently, "but we are hoping that anything, any little detail no matter how small or insignificant you think it may be that you can tell us about your husband might assist us in drawing up a psychological profile of his killers, maybe help us identify the type of victims they go after."

"Please come in." Mrs. Eramat tearfully invited Connie into the apartment as she stepped aside to allow Connie to enter before closing the door and turning to lead the young woman across to the sofa, "I'm…I'm not sure just how much help I can be but if you think it will help you catch the men who murdered Sammy…"


	7. Chapter 7

Hanging up the phone, Mike grabbed his coat and fedora before he hurried out of the office slapping his partner on the shoulder as he hurried past. “Come on, Buddy Boy, we have another possible murder.”

Turning away from the report he had started to work on after not being able to contact Connie, Steve jumped up and snagged his coat from the back of his chair before he hurried to catch with Mike, frowning, “That makes two today, are they sure the murders are connected?”

“The uniform guys said witnesses heard screams and at least two shots before they saw three young black men running from the scene. The description matches our three suspects from Sammy’s shooting.” Mike told him over his shoulder as they raced out of the squad room.

SOSF SOSF SOSF

“I thought that I could show all the human elements of a murder, you know, follow the murder from the start to the end, from the discovery of the victim until the arrest and trial of the murderer. Show the readers all the human sides to a murder, from the victim and their families perspective, to the perspective of the person who committed it and their reasons why.” Connie began confidently as she stood in front of the editor’s desk, pitching her idea for her article that showed everyone involved in a murder, from the victim to the murderer, were someone's son or daughter, someone's mother or father, and not just a victim or a murderer. “I want to show everyone, including the officers who are investigating the cases that the victims, they see as nothing more than evidence to be poked and prodded, their lives laid bare, and the murderers who they are hunting, are real human beings with real feelings, hopes, and dreams.”

The editor remained silent as he waited for her to make her pitch to get off the fashion pages and onto the front page.

“And I thought that I would cover the “Zebra” murders, focusing on the murder of the shopkeeper today.” Connie smiled proudly, placing the collection of colored photos, she had taken at the crime scene, one at a time, onto her editor’s desk, enjoying the surprise on his face as he looked down staring at each photo that she placed in front of him. Fingering the last crime scene photo, she waited until he looked up at her before she silently and triumphantly placed it on top of the rest. She heard him whistle in admiration as he slowly picked up the photo showing the image of the shop keeper’s body beneath a blood-stained sheet in the doorway of the restroom surrounded by police officers, before he silently looked back up at her as he placed the photo down with the rest.

“I thought I would start with an article covering today’s crime scene and the beginning of the investigation into the murder of the shopkeeper, Samuel Eramat,” Connie began, encouraged by the editor’s silence as she nodded towards the photos on his desk, before she placed three more photos on top of the pile that that victim’s wife had given her, one showing the victim as a proud and loving family man, surrounded by his wife and three children, the second their wedding photo,  and the third photo was the tear stained face of the grieving widow. “Then I would follow it up with the devastating effect his murder has had on his family.”

“I like it,” the editor smiled as his eyes drifted back down to the photos on his desk.

Connie smiled and nodded as she continued, “I hope to be able to interview and photograph everyone who the police talk to, find out how they are involved in the investigation, get their points of view about what has happened, follow the police investigation from the start to the end. And then, after the case is solved, I want to get an interview with the killers. Give them a chance to give the readers their side of the story, I want them to be able to tell the world the real reasons of why they did what they did.”

The editor nodded eagerly as Connie paused for a moment before she placed the last photo she held in her hand onto her editor’s desk in front of him.  

Picking it up, the editor stared at the man in the photo, recognizing the young Homicide inspector instantly, Homicide Inspector Stephen Keller, Lieutenant Stone’s young partner, the man who Connie was dating and one of the Homicide officers who was leading the investigation into the “Zebra’ serial killings. What a scoop! Connie had promised that she would get the inside scoop of a murder investigation and by Hell, it looked like she could really come through with the promise.

Looking back up at Connie’s excited face, he did not have time to tell her how pleased he was before they were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Placing the photo on top of the small pile, he looked across at the door as it opened and his top reporter barged in.

Casting a quick glance in Connie’s direction, the reporter instantly dismissed her as being someone unimportant as he returned his attention back to his boss and announced, “Just heard on the police scanner, there’s been another murder, by the description of the suspects, it could be linked to the ‘Zebra’ murders.”

The editor looked back at Connie as he demanded gruffly, “Well, what are you waiting for? You have a murder case to cover. Get going!”

“Thanks Boss,” Connie grinned with delight as she turned and hurried out of the room, skirting around the confused man standing in the doorway, who turned and watched her leave before he turned questioningly  back towards their boss’s desk.


End file.
